


Triwizard Miracle

by GroutTheTrout



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Gen, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24469753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GroutTheTrout/pseuds/GroutTheTrout
Summary: Harry somehow gets through the Triwizard Tournament with an immense amount of luck and stupidity. Why? Because that's just how he does things.(Basically just different methods of completing the tasks in the Triwizard Tournament. Also no, Harry doesn not just Accio everything.)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	Triwizard Miracle

** Triwizard Miracle**

****

The first task of the Triwizard Tournament was slowly approaching, and Harry still hadn't gotten the hang of Accio. "It's fine, I'm sure you'll pull it off just fine during the actual task," Hermione reassured him over and over again, but he could hardly believe her at all. It was already 3 in the morning, and both of them were beyond exhausted. Harry had spent hours already on the godforsaken spell, and he was at his limits.

Deciding he had had enough, Harry approached Hermione the morning of the day of the first task, and told her he no longer wished to learn Accio. "But you don't have any other plan!" Hermione protested. "Come on, Harry. Let's try again. I'm sure you'll pull it off this time round. How about we practise during lunch?" Harry politely declined the offer, saying he would come up with another plan before afternoon. Hermione didn't believe him whatsoever, and spent the rest of breakfast trying to convince him. He would have to think of another plan in the span of a few hours, but that was manageable, right?

As unsurprising and obvious as it sounds, thinking of ways to steal an egg from a dragon which could kill you in a matter of seconds was the opposite of easy. Harry had spent every class that day thinking of a new plan, but nothing remotely useful came to mind. In fact, he was so lost in his thoughts that he even managed to get through History of Magic class without falling asleep once.

"Maybe I could just ask the dragon to hand me its egg. Yeah, that's right. I'll even add in 'please' and 'thank you'. That's sure to get me the egg," he blurted out during lunch. At that point, he'd become so desperate for a plan his brain was suggesting some of the world's most ridiculous ideas.

"That's not going to-" Hermione tried telling him, but was cut off by McGonagall dragging Harry off. Harry was a dead man, and he sure as hell knew it. There was no way he'd be able to just run past the dragon and get the golden egg it was guarding. That'd be a miracle if it ever happened. At best, he’d have several severe injuries. At worst, he’d be six feet under.  
_____________________________

A couple minutes later, and he was hearing the sounds of applause coming from the crowd as Viktor Krum managed to secure the golden egg from the Chinese Fireball. His heart continued its fast-paced thumping, and as the whistle blew, he felt his marshmallow legs leading him outside the tent. He walked into the enclosure, and stared at the Hungarian Horntail in front of him.

Panic rising in him, he did the first thing that came to mind. Harry walked forwards and asked, “Excuse me, may I have that golden egg please?” A loud screech came from the dragon. “Well, it’s not a _real_ egg. I’ll leave the real ones be, I promise!” The dragon eyed him warily. Narrowing its eyes, it stared at Harry for what felt like forever. The crowd looked in blank dismay, with the exception of a few who were mocking Harry’s stupidity.

Harry took a quick glance at the judges’ table. Karkaroff had a large grin on his face, Madame Maxime and Ludo Bagman looked on worriedly as if expecting the dragon to burn Harry to a crisp right there and then ( _And honestly, who can blame them?_ ), Mr Crouch looked too tired to even care, and Dumbledore merely stared at the dragon with a curious expression on his face. 

When Harry turned back to the dragon, it opened its mouth, and Harry thought he was toast ( _Literally!_ ). That is, until it closed its mouth again and continued the staring contest between them. _it’s deciding the best way to kill me_ , Harry thought. A minute passes, and the dragon is still staring at him. It seemed to be lost in thought, which only confirmed the thought Harry had earlier. By now he was drenched in sweat, his heart was beating so fast he felt as if it was going to jump out of him.

Then, out of nowhere, the dragon turned its head to look at the dragon-keepers, shooting them a curious look that said, “Is this allowed?” The dragon-keepers shrugged in response, and the dragon turned back to face Harry. It then nodded its head slowly, and moved to the side to allow Harry a clear path to the golden egg.

“Really? You’ll let me have it?” Harry asked excitedly. The dragon nodded again. “Thank you!” was all Harry could say in his dumbfounded state. He ran for the egg and seized it. Then, he made sure to thank the dragon again as he carried the egg out the enclosure. He held it up high for the crowd to see, though there was really nothing to be proud of. It was a miracle the dragon didn’t kill him at the proposal, let alone let him have the egg. Or at least that’s what he thought of the situation.

Loud roars of applause came from the crowd and Bagman shouted in his booming voice, "Look at that! Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!" The dragon-keepers rushed forward to subdue the Hungarian Horntail (although there was really no point in doing so), and he was then escorted to Madam Pomfrey to be checked for injuries. Even though it was obvious to anyone watching that he had none.

Inside the first-aid tent, Harry and Ron got over their frustrations with each other through a conversation that went something like this:

“That was brilliant, that was! They really want to do you in, don't they?” Ron paused. “Whoever put your name in the goblet, that is. I saw what those dragons did to Cedric and that Fleur girl!”

“Caught on, have you?” Harry said coldly, then added, “It’s OK.”

“No it’s not! I should’ve-”

“Forget it.”

They grinned at each other and Hermione burst into tears at their reunion. She eventually calmed down though, and managed to tell Harry, “Harry, I’m sorry I-

“Didn’t think it would actually work? Yeah, me neither! I don’t think anyone saw that coming.” said Ron. “ _Nice thinking, Harry!_ ” There was something about the last line that rubbed Harry the wrong way.

“No, I-” Harry tried to say, but was cut off by Ron’s retelling of how the other champions dealt with the task. Afterwards, he left the tent to receive his score from the judges. He expected them all to give him a terribly low score. After all, his performance was the furthest thing from entertaining. His thoughts couldn’t be more wrong though, because when he got his score, they went accordingly: Madame Maxime had given him a 10 ( _Wait..._ ), Mr Crouch a 10 ( _Huh?_ ), Dumbledore a 10 ( _How the hell did that happen?!_ ), Ludo Bagman a 10 ( _What in the-_ ), and Karkaroff a measly 2.

" _WHAT?!_ HE GOT THE EGG IN LESS THAN HALF THE TIME IT TOOK KRUM! AND HE DIDN’T GET HURT, NOR DID HE DAMAGE ANY EGGS! HE SHOULD’VE GOTTEN A PERFECT SCORE, YOU LOUSY BIASED SCUMBAG!" Ron bellowed furiously. In all honesty, Harry couldn't care less what score Karkaroff gave him, he was just glad to have his best friend back. 

"You’re in first, Harry!" Charlie informed him. “You’re lucky you got Bertha - she’s one of the more passive ones.” Not long after, Harry was called to the tent and informed of the second task and its hint, which was inside the golden egg. He later headed back to the Gryffindor common room to celebrate.  
_____________________________

 _So the next task was to be held underwater. Well, that'd certainly be boring for the audience to watch_ , Harry thought as he set aside the golden egg and lied down in his bed. He'd have to think of, or find some way to breathe underwater, which wasn’t easy at all. “It’s fine,” he constantly told Ron and Hermione in an attempt to put the second task off his mind.

The second task was to be held tomorrow, and at this point, he really didn’t want to stay up until 3 again to find some spell that’ll help him survive the next task, only to not be able to pull it off during the actual task. The situation wasn’t made better by the fact that Ron and Hermione were currently missing.

Then it hit him. The summoning charm! Why hadn’t he thought of it? He’s already done some practise on the dang thing, so who’s to say he won’t be able to cast it this time? Besides, it’s much easier than learning a completely new spell he’s just heard about. Who knows? Maybe he just needed a bit more practise. _Then again, they’ve probably enchanted the thing I’ll have to retrieve_ , he thought grimly. _No, it has to be tied to something, or at least placed on a pedestal underwater._

With a sudden wave of motivation, he got up from his bed, grabbed his copy of **_The Standard Book of Spells Grade 4_** , and left his dormitory without anyone noticing. When he was out, he placed the book onto a chair by the fireplace, and turned to the page with the Summoning Charm. He skimmed through it, reminding himself of the steps taken to perform the spell. Then, he proceeded to close the book, and stand across from it, attempting to cast the spell there.

It wasn't until midnight, did Harry manage to cast the spell. "Guess I really did just need more practise," he said to himself, as he placed the book back on the chair. This time, he walked further back and cast the spell again. It worked, so he tried it with a few other things. Like: a loaf of bread from the kitchen, a book in the library, Dumbledore's robes, Snape's bottle of shampoo, (which never appeared), and much, much more. He had an image clear in his mind of the object, and knew the general location of it each time he summoned one.

He creaked open the portrait of The Fat Lady and picked up the objects that hit the portrait, then fell. How had they made it out the other portraits and doors? He had no idea. The Fat Lady gave him a scolding about not summoning things that don't belong to you at midnight of all times, or something along those lines. He wasn't really listening. All he knew was that with each casting of the spell, he was getting better at it: the objects arrived quicker, he didn't have to imagine the objects as clearly as he did the first few times, and he only needed to know which floor and corridor the object was at to get it.  
_____________________________

The next day arrived, and along with it came the tournament's second task. Due to his sleeping late, and Dobby waking him up at 5, Harry woke up very late that day. When he awoke, Mcgonagall was beside him, telling him to “hurry up”. Harry slipped into the nearest robe he could find (which was weirdly too large for him), and left with Mcgonagall who escorted him to the Black Lake where the task was to be held. The other champions were there too, all looking tense as usual. The crowd arrived, and then before he knew it, the second task had begun.

The three other champions all plunged into the lake after just a couple seconds of the task starting. Krum turned into this human-shark hybrid thing, Cedric had casted the bubble-head charm, and Fleur did the same thing. Remembering what Dobby told him at 5 in the morning earlier that day, Harry casted Homenum Revelio. The figure of four people shone brightly at the bottom of the lake, and he could just barely make out who they were. To his shock and horror, Dobby was right. Not only was his "Wheezy" there, but so were Hermione, Cho and another girl who he didn't recognise. They appeared to be tied to a giant rock, which pretty much rendered the summoning charm useless, since it couldn't summon large objects such as buildings.

Panic started to rush through him. Why did he tell Dobby he had it all figured out? Now he had no idea what to do, and if he didn't do something, they'd all drown. Laughter was coming from the crowd, which only made him panic more. Thinking fast, he summoned the only thing that came to mind - a merperson’s trident ( _They’ve gotta have one, right?_ )! Now he had a trident in his hand and no plan whatsoever. Great. He held the trident up, hoping something would happen.

To the shock and horror of everyone, something did happen. A whirlpool started to form in the lake, a big one too. “Uh- uhm- STOP!” he screamed, as he slammed the trident down. The whirlpool slowed down and eventually calmed. “I just want to save my friends!” he told the trident, as if it could understand him. Then, as if instinctively, Harry turned it around, and stabbed the ground with the pointed end of the trident. Seeing what he had done, Harry grabbed the top of the trident and pulled it up, thinking that it was the right thing to do.

A giant stream of water shot up, and with it came Ron and Hermione. “Arresto Momentum!” Harry shouted at Ron, who was currently falling from 50 feet in the air. Harry did the same with Hermione once he made sure Ron was no longer in danger of breaking all his bones. By some miracle, Harry managed to get both his friends out, and _only_ them at that. Though, now that he thought about it, that may have been an intended result.

As Ron and Hermione descended from the air gracefully, Harry decided to glance over at the judges’ table. Dumbledore had his usual curious expression, Madame Maxime, Ludo Bagman, and Karkaroff looked too terrified to speak. Percy might’ve been the only one watching who was actually happy for Harry. The crowd wasn’t much different, there were some who were terrified of Harry, some who found the whole thing extremely interesting, and some - mostly Gryffindors - who were ecstatic for Harry.

The sudden increase of air must’ve woken Ron up (either that or a spell cast on him wore off), because he then says groggily to Harry, “What the hell’d you do that for?” Harry stared at him with an offended look. “You just helped that Krum bastard win!”

“What?”

“You see Hermione? Yeah, that’s Krum’s hostage, not yours.” A look of realisation crosses Harry’s face.

“Well, I couldn’t let her just drown down there!”

“You seriously think Dumbledore would actually let that happen?”

Harry wanted to object, but now that he thought about it. Dumbledore would never let that happen. “Well at least I got _you_ out,” was all he said instead.

“Yeah, you did. _Nice thinking, Harry!_ ” There came that line again. Harry seriously hated it, because it implied he had the whole thing thought out and that it wasn’t just a stroke of luck that the things happened as they did. That, of course was the exact opposite of the truth. Worst part was that the whole of Gryffindor had decided it was a good enough line to be repeated over and over again.

Their conversation was cut short however, when the booming voice of Ludo Bagman said, “And our youngest champion is the first to reclaim their hostage! How impressive! He didn’t even touch the lake with his feet! Even more impressive is that he managed to return two hostages!”

The judges seemed to be in deep conversation, when Hermione awoke with a start. She looked around, and a confused look started to creep its way onto her face. “Harry? Ron? What are you two doing? Why are you holding a trident? And where’s Krum?”

Harry threw the trident back into the water, hoping the merperson he took it from would understand. He then had to explain everything to Hermione, which was easier said than done because Hermione kept asking questions about the reasoning behind how Harry came up with the ridiculous idea. Questions which he had no answer to besides “I don’t know. Instincts, I guess.”

Krum was called back shortly afterwards as there was no point to him being down there anymore. The four of them - Harry, Ron, Hermione and Krum sat there waiting for Cedric and Fleur to resurface. Cedric came back up with Cho a minute after the initial time limit, but Fleur came back way earlier, saying she couldn’t save her sister because of some underwater creature Harry didn’t bother to care about. All he heard were the words, “I can’t save her!” and he tried summoning the trident again. Only to be stopped by Dumbledore, who called up the merpeople and had a nice chat with them. The Merpeople brought Fleur’s sister back after the conversation.

At the end, the points given were as follows: Krum got a 38 for his transfiguration work, although marks were deducted from him for not saving Hermione (Karkaroff deemed it unfair and Harry couldn’t help but agree with him), Fleur got a 25 for not being able to save her sister, Cedric got a 48 because he had come back outside the time limit, and Harry got a 45 (points were deducted for “sabotage” as Karkaroff puts it. Although the other judges argued his intentions were completely innocent).  
_____________________________

“You’re still in the lead, Harry,” Hermione told him after they headed back to the Gryffindor common room. “I told you that you just needed a little more practise to be able to cast Accio.”

“Congrats, mate!” said Ron. “By the way, where’d you get that robe? It looks awfully like the one Dumbledore wears.”

“Really?” Harry asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible when he realised what he had done earlier. His thoughts were too preoccupied by the second task, and by the time he had finished it, he was too preoccupied by a game of Slap Jack with Ron and Hermione.

“Harry, you didn’t summon anyone else’s possessions when practicing the charm, did you?” Hermione asked him suspiciously.

“No, of course not. Who do you think I am?”

When he got back into the boy’s dormitory, he whispered to Ron, “Fun fact: Snape doesn’t use shampoo.”  
_____________________________

Harry was standing outside the maze that had grown on the Quidditch Pitch. Taking several deep breaths, he moved his hand around the hedge. Then, he shouted “Bombarda!” while waving his wand. A hole was blasted in the hedge, but it grew back quickly. He looked around him for any student or professor, but found none. Deeming it safe, Harry cast another spell, one that was much stronger than the previous one. _This is sure to wake everyone in the castle up_ , he thought as he pointed his wand at the hedge and shouted, “Expulso!”

The spell caused a massive explosion that knocked Harry backwards. He quickly scrambled to get up and saw through all the dust and leaves that the explosion made a giant hole in the hedge. For a second, he thought the hedge wouldn’t grow back. He was wrong, of course. The hedge grew back extremely quickly for something that just had ¾ of it blown away. Still, Harry knew that the timeframe between the hedge being destroyed and growing back was big enough for him to get through. Boy was he glad he picked up **_Dark Spells That Are Actually Really Useful_** from the library, because now he had a plan for the third task, and wasn’t just going in unprepared.

He put his invisibility cloak back over himself and returned to the castle. He walked through the halls slowly, making sure his footsteps didn’t make much noise. Harry took a shortcut to make the journey back to the Gryffindor common room quicker. As he walked by Filch, Mrs Morris glared and screeched at him. Thankfully, Filch ignored her. That cat was a demon straight from hell, and Harry knew it, so he picked up his pace when he was sure he was out of Filch's earshot.

Out of nowhere, Mrs Norris lunged at him in an attempt to alert Filch of his presence. Luckily, she missed and hit the suit of armor he was passing, causing it to fall, and make a noise that was much louder than anyone could’ve anticipated. Fortunately, it didn’t start moving around, so Harry tried to get away as quickly as he could, but in his haste, he nearly bumped into Dumbledore; who was also hurrying along the corridors, most likely alerted by the noise. It was all he could do to not blurt out “Sorry, Professor.” Instead he edged away slowly, hoping to god that Dumbledore didn’t sense his presence.

As he was walking along the walls, he saw Hagrid holding the goblet where the students placed their names into to participate in the tournament. After all this time, Harry still didn’t know who put his name into that goblet. Hagrid walked up to Dumbledore with the goblet and informed him of the spells that had been placed on it.

“Mad-Eye’s placed the enchantment ye asked him teh” Hagrid informed Dumbledore.

“Ah yes, please do give him my thanks.” said Dumbledore as he waved his wand and caused the suit of armor to rearrange itself. “Please do control your cat, Argus.”

Filch apologised, then picked up Mrs Norris and went away. Hagrid bid Dumbledore goodnight, and did the same. Dumbledore on the other hand, went towards the direction Harry came from. Harry let his curiosity get to him and decided to follow Dumbledore. Harry knew Dumbledore probably had a feeling someone was following him, so Harry stayed quite far behind, hoping the distance between them would help out the situation.

After several minutes of tailing Dumbledore, Harry arrived back at the place he was earlier. Dumbledore transported the cup somewhere inside the maze, and left. This disappointed Harry quite a bit, he’d wanted to follow Dumbledore into the maze and see for himself the dangers that lie beyond. He would’ve done it himself, but there was a magical barrier surrounding the inside of the maze that prevented him from going in.

As he was leaving, something caught the attention of Dumbledore. It was the part of the hedges Harry destroyed just now. “Looks like we’ve got some clever competitors this year. Don’t you think so, Harry?” Harry wasn’t shocked in the slightest at Dumbledore’s comment. Startled? Yes. But surprised? Not at all. _Of course he knew! He always knew_ , Harry thought as he slid off the top of his cloak.

“Er- yes, professor,” he tried to respond as innocently as possible.

“I’m assuming you’re the one who did this?”

“Yes, sir. I won’t do it again, promise!” Harry mentally slapped himself when he realised there was no “again” to the thing. This was the last task for crying out loud.

“It’s alright, Harry. We’ll just have to make some adjustments. Maybe put a shield charm around all the hedges.” Dumbledore informed Harry.

Disappointed that his plan wouldn’t work whatsoever, Harry bid Dumbledore goodbye, and left for the Gryffindor common room. Now he had to come up with _yet_ another plan the day before the actual task. Sure, he could just do the maze as intended, but an advantage would surely be nice. Well, at least he stood a chance this time. With the thought of the third task on his mind, Harry drifted off to sleep in one of the comfy four-poster beds.  
_____________________________

He awoke the next day and picked up the robe he stole from Dumbledore. I should really return this, he thought as he put it over a plain oversized t-shirt he had gotten from the Dursleys. He thought it might as well be his good-luck charm in this whole thing. _I’ll return it when I win. If I win, that is._

Harry left for the task later that day. He stood outside the maze with the other champions, waiting for the announcement. When Ludo Bagman informed them of the task at hand, he also informed the champions they would be released into the maze in descending order of the score. Harry was delighted at the news because he was currently in first place with 87 points, which gave him more than enough time to experiment.

When the whistle sounded, Harry took a long, deep breath and ran inside the maze. He took out his wand, pointed it at the hedge in front of him and shouted “Expulso!” The spell was cast, and the large explosion rebounded off the hedge. Harry was knocked backwards again, this time with more force. After confirming he couldn’t blow everything up to get through the maze, he racked his brain for another solution.

 _Think, think, think!_ He screamed aloud in his head. He stared up at the sky, then an idea came. _Can you fly above the maze?_ He asked himself. "Probably not. They must’ve thought of that," he told himself quietly, as he picked up a pebble off the ground. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted. The pebble flew up into the air, and didn’t stop until Harry cast a counterspell on it. _Guess they didn't._

He looked up at the sky, bewildered at the fact that nobody thought of adding a barrier on top of the maze. Knowing the Levitation Charm wouldn’t work on himself, he thought of another idea. He could just cast an explosion at himself to be propelled forward. “That’s stupid,” he muttered to himself. Still, it was certainly worth a shot.

He pointed his wand at the ground, jumped, and shouted “Expulso!” In an instant, he was blasted off his feet. He was now above the maze and falling at extreme speeds. His whole body hurt from being blasted by the spell directly, but he tried his best to ignore it, and continued blasting himself to the trophy. It was a miracle his grip on his wand hadn’t loosened throughout the entire thing.

The crowd was going wild, they couldn't tell whether he was planning to kill himself before he got the cup or if he really was that dumb. Ludo Bagman’s commentary wasn't helping either. “Is this some genius plan concocted by Mr Potter? Or has he truly gone mad? Whatever it is, it’s certainly working! Just look at him go!” For once, Harry saw that Dumbledore actually had a worried expression on his face. The other champions stared at him in bewilderment.

After about four to five more of the same spell, Harry saw the Triwizard cup in the middle of the maze. He flipped his body so his back was facing the ground, and casted another Expulso at himself. As he was falling, he reached his hands out and grabbed the cup. He felt something jerk at his naval, and he stayed in the air. His hands held on tightly to the Triwizard Cup as it pulled him inwards. _This was the enchantment Hagrid was talking about. It must be_ , Harry thought as this was all happening. _Why make it a Portkey, though?_  
_____________________________

Harry opened his eyes to a graveyard of all places. “What in the name of Merlin?” he asked. He expected to be transported back to the start of the maze, not some random graveyard near an abandoned house. He looked around, and realised that this was the same place he saw in his dreams. _Man, I dream about some weird places_ , he thought as he walked towards the Triwizard Cup to pick it back up.

It was a miracle he was still alive after being hit by so many direct explosions. His whole body hurt, and he really wished he had just done the maze as intended. Maybe he wouldn’t even be here if he did.

Out of nowhere, a short man with watery eyes and pointed nose appeared from the darkness. It was Peter Pettigrew. His scar seared with pain, and he bolted for the cup. However, Pettigrew managed to trip him with a spell and bound him to the grave of someone named Tom Riddle. His wand was then taken from him - much to his disapproval. 

An ancient ritual was performed by Pettigrew to bring back this weird snake-looking, slits-for-pupils, no-nose, white-skinned man that looked like they came straight out of someone’s nightmares. Harry could only assume that this was Voldemort, because honestly, who else would it be? 

Voldemort stared at Harry, confusion evident on his face. “Potter, are you seriously wearing Dumbledore’s robe?” he asked dumbfoundedly. “Seriously, you’re _that_ loyal to him?”

Feeling very much offended, Harry yelled, “DON’T QUESTION IT!” defensively. Voldemort started laughing in his cold, high-pitched voice, mocking Harry. “YOU’RE ONE TO TALK. YOU’RE SO OBSESSED WITH SNAKES, YOU BECAME ONE, YOU OBSESSED WEIRDO!” he shouted at Voldemort, anger rising in him.

This only made Voldemort laugh harder. When he was done, he said in his usual cold voice, “We’ll see who’s the obsessed weirdo when I show your corpse to that beloved headmaster of yours.”

“Alright then, kill me!” Harry screamed at Voldemort.

“Kill you? While there’s nobody here to watch your death besides Wormtail?” Voldemort let out another laugh. “No.” _How the hell does he know Pettigrew’s nickname?_

Voldemort pressed his forefinger onto an edgy skull tattoo on Wormtail’s elbow. _Great. Guess he’s also some edgy gothic teenager_ , Harry thought, annoyed at the fact his death had to be watched by an audience. _Probably writes his own romance fanfiction about snakes, where he’s the overpowered Gary Sue who’s also a satanist._

He sat there motionlessly, hearing Voldemort monologue about his past, watching Voldemort give Wormtail some weird arm-enhancer thing, watching the Death Eaters arrive, remembering their names, watching Voldemort monologue again. He couldn’t help but feel bored at the whole thing. And quite frankly, offended that he was currently being ignored (though, he knew he should’ve been glad this was the case). Until finally, he was untied by Wormtail and had his wand handed back to him.

He got on his feet quickly, and screamed into the night in the loudest voice he could manage, “VOLDEMORT'S AN OBSESSED OPHIOPHILIST WHO SHAGS SNAKES!” The Death Eaters stared at each other with horrified expressions on their faces (at least Harry assumed so. Their faces were covered). He needed some way to distract Voldemort, and he really wouldn’t mind embarrassing Voldemort in the process.

“He told me so when he was monologing about his past before you all arrived,” Harry paused. “He said: ‘This right here, was the house my father grew up in. He used to bring me here to show me the snakes that live here ever since it was abandoned. During my teenage years, he stopped taking me. I didn’t let that stop me however, every summer, I would return from Hogwarts and come back here - where I truly belonged. Then one day, I got curious. I wanted to know how it felt. So I called up my friend Iris-’ She’s a snake. ‘And we did it. I don’t know what I was thinking when it happened. All I knew was that it felt good. So I did it again and again during my school-free months. To this day, it is still one of my guilty pleasures. I’m sure you understand, Potter.’ Could you believe it?! That story made me cringe so hard, I almost wanted to slam my head against the tombstone I was tied to and kill myself.”

The Death Eaters were holding back laughter. They knew that if they dared to even let out a snort, that they’d be murdered by Voldemort. _Wow, they actually believed it_ , Harry knew Death Eaters probably weren’t the brightest of the bunch, but that story was just over the top ridiculous. Although, now that he thought about it, it might actually be plausible. Harry turned around to stare at Voldemort. To say Voldemort was angry was an understatement - he was beyond furious.

Without any warning, Voldemort took out his wand and yelled, “AVADA KEDAVRA!” A green light shot from the tip of Voldemort’s wand. Harry dodged to the side and ran towards Voldemort. He hadn’t thought of it earlier, but if he could somehow bring Voldemort back with him via the Portkey, Dumbledore would definitely be able to defeat Voldemort once and for all.

Voldemort, taken aback by Harry suddenly charging towards him, tried to cast the same spell again. “Avada Kedavra!” he shouted, but Harry threw Dumbledore’s robe in front of the spell, causing a loud blast that destroyed the robe. _Guess I'm not returning that anytime soon._ Harry then immediately shot the Stunning Spell at Voldemort. Voldemort fell, and laid on the ground unconscious. Harry grabbed Voldemort’s arm and casted the Summoning Spell on the Triwizard Cup. It flew towards him, and then the next thing he knew, he was flying through colours while holding onto Voldemort and the Portkey.  
_____________________________

Harry was dumped back onto the grassy field of the Quidditch Pitch, still holding on to Voldemort and the Triwizard Cup. Realising he was outside the maze, he sat up straight, and watched as Dumbledore approached with Mad-Eye Moody. For some odd reason, Moody seemed to have a terrified look on his face as he saw Voldemort's unconscious body. Then again, anyone would be terrified if a Dark Lord who was thought to be dead suddenly appeared.

Harry held up the trophy and Voldemort's arm high enough for the audience to see. "I won!" Harry announced. "And look, I even got a nice little participation prize," said Harry, while holding Voldemort’s hand higher so everyone could see it better.

"Harry-" Dumbledore began, but Moody had already begun dragging Harry away. Dumbledore eyed Moody suspiciously as this happened.  
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"Lies! The Dark Lord would never do such a thing!" Moody growled at Harry, who was trying to stall the time so someone could come and help him after they inevitably realised he'd been gone for too long.

"Alright, alright, fine. I made it all up. Voldemort doesn't actually shag snakes. Of course he doesn't!" Harry said in a defeated tone. He'd continue the charade, but he saw that the Foe-Glass had shadowy figures in it, and knew that help was soon arriving. In order to get one last jab at Voldemort, Harry added," But he is quite the comedian. Told me about his comedian days during that long monologue of his."

Not long after the comment was said, the shadowy figures in the Foe-Glass became clearer. He saw the figures of Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall in it. Moody was now pointing his wand at Harry, preparing to cast the Killing Curse. Then, before Moody had the time to even open his mouth, Harry said with a smug look on his face, "Oh look, Dumbledore's here."

As soon as Harry had said the sentence, Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall burst through the door. "What is the meaning of this, Alastor?" Dumbledore had said the last word with a hint of anger in his voice. "If I'm not mistaken, that is your name?" he asked, anger rising by the second.

"Of course it is!" said Moody, as he quickly put away his wand.

"He's a Death Eater, professor! Even had a whole fifteen minute-long monologue about it." Dumbledore looked at Harry with a look of understanding on his face. "Also he has Daddy issues." Harry added. For some reason, he found making fun of Death Eaters very amusing.  
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 _This is the fourth monologue I’ve heard today. I’m starting to really hate them. At least I get an explanation now_ , Harry thought as he sat there, listening to Barty Crouch Jr’s elaborate plan. Looking for something to do, Harry asked Dumbledore, “Professor, what happened to Voldemort?”

“Not now, Harry.” came Dumbledore’s response. So Harry just sat there, listening intently, until Barty Crouch Jr was finally done, and they had found the real Moody’s body.

Harry thought he could finally go back to the Gryffindor common room to celebrate his victory and then hit the sack, but nope. He was now being dragged to Dumbledore’s office instead. When they entered, Harry sat down across from Dumbledore, and asked again, “Professor, what happened to Voldemort?”

Dumbledore let out a a deep sigh, and replied, “He is currently under the effect of the Draught of Living Dead.”

“Aren’t you going to finish him off?” Harry asked. He couldn’t figure out why Dumbledore wouldn’t kill Voldemort right there and then. Especially since Voldemort was unconscious.

“You must be getting quite sick of these by now, but I’m afraid I can no longer keep this from you,” Dumbledore told Harry solemnly.

“Oh…” was all that Harry managed to say as he realised he’d have to go through yet another long monologue. This one probably longer than the previous four combined. He stared blankly at Dumbledore, thinking about how much he would've preferred to hear hundreds of “ _Nice Thinking, Harry!_ ” instead, because at least he actually thought of something this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this piece of mediocre fanfiction.
> 
> Edit: Istg every time I reread this I find another mistake to fix. Let's hope there's nothing else left this time 'round.
> 
> Edit 2: It has now come to my attention that the Death Eaters were wearing masks during the whole summoning thing, meaning you couldn't've seen their expressions. Whoops.


End file.
